


Found Family and Flowers

by OceanTheSoulRebel



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanTheSoulRebel/pseuds/OceanTheSoulRebel
Summary: Blackwall and Sera share more in common than meets the eye.





	Found Family and Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blackwall | Thom Rainier](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/390371) by ladylilac. 



> For [@ladylilac](https://ladylilac.tumblr.com) on Tumblr, who drew me a beautiful piece of art of a younger Thom Rainier with flowers in his hair.

“Wouldya look at that? That’s right pretty!”

Sera’s voice perked up as they approached the river, pointing toward the rushing water. The riverbed was dotted with tiny flowers, white and red patches spreading like wildfire before the grassy earth gave way to the water’s erosion.

The Inquisitor studied the sky for a moment before calling back to the group. “Let’s make camp and rest, we’ll ford the river tomorrow.”

“Aye-aye, Quizzybits!” Sera slid from her horse and dropped her pack unceremoniously on the ground. “Just in time, too,” she confided as Blackwall dismounted, “my arse feels like it’s gonna fall off with all that riding.”

Blackwall couldn’t help the bark of laughter that jolted from him at her words. Shaking his head, he hoisted his travel bag high on his back, finding a suitable place to pitch his tent close to the river.

“Pretty, right?”

He drove the tent stake into the soft earth before looking up, finding Sera twining small flowers through her fingers. She plucked the petals from them one by one, gathering a small handful. He frowned slightly and had just opened his mouth to speak when she blew the petal confetti directly into his face.

Blackwall coughed and choked on the small debris, batting them away from his hair and beard with his hands. Sera laughed at his momentary misery, dropping to the grass in an undignified heap beside his half-set tent.

“You’re a tit, Fuzzyhead,” he said with a grin, and sank down to the ground to tear grass to throw back at her.

“Yeah, well, you’re too serious, Beardy!” She shoved the remains of her flowers at his face with a laugh and playfully punched his shoulder. “Live a little, you big bear.”

They play-fought on the river bank, pelting each other with clumps of grass and no small amount of damp dirt while ignoring their comrades as they made camp. It was neither of their turns to tend the cookfire that evening, and it was still bright out - a win, as much as there was one on the road.

Sera watched the sun begin its descent toward the horizon and sprawled on her back over the grass, anchoring her bared toes in the leafy blades. “Can I put flowers in your hair?”

Blackwall looked at her with a raised brow. “You want to what?”

Sera shrugged. “Flowers. Hair. Seems made for it, yeah?”

He shrugged and gave a snort. “Sure, Fuzz.”

Sera sat up and plucked more flowers from around them, gathering a neat pile before she threaded them into his beard. Her tongue stuck out just a tad as she concentrated, the ridiculous sight goading a laugh from him.

“You remind me of my sister,” Blackwall said, a fond smile creeping over his face. She poked him in the cheek with a small red flower before nestling it among the others. “Liddy used to make me daisy chain crowns and the like when we were kids.”

“Can’t imagine you anything but old; no offense, Beardy, but you must’ve been a serious little kid.”

His smile faltered. “Not really, no, not when we were kids. When we got older, we had to grow up, more than any of us wanted.”

Sera frowned, peering at his face for the best placement of the next miniature bloom. “Where’s she now?”

“Dead and gone, has been for years now.” Blackwall closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. “She was always sick, and we were always too poor to get help, and one day it… got worse, until she couldn’t get better again. She was barely ten years old, just passed her birthday.”

She picked at the flower in her hands, her eyes dropping to the petals. “And your folks?”

Blackwall sighed. “Soon took after her, Maker rest their souls. Part of why I left the Marches.”

“Yeah…”

The scent of woodsmoke drifted over to them on the breeze. Sera’s fingers fidgeted, tearing petals from their stems before dropping them over his face.

“My… I dunno what to call her anymore. She wasn’t my mum or anything, but she took me in when I was a tiny orphan. She died back in Denerim when I was a kid, though, before the Blight took it over. Lonely old bat, she was. She used to…” She trailed off, scrunching her nose. “She used to spend a stupid amount of money on flowers in the stupid garden, but never let me play in them. Said I’d ruin them.”

“That why you’re mangling those poor plants?”

“Nah, that’s just a fun bit.” Sera grinned and pelted him again with the flower pieces, stem and leaf torn expertly by her nimble fingers. “Not-mum would sometimes get me these tiny ones, though, all yellow and green and white. When she said I was good enough for ‘em. I loved those, would keep ‘em in water for a day or two before making a little crown. She’d say I was prettier than the Queen of all of Ferelden, back then.”

Blackwall carefully patted at his flower-festooned beard, stilling as a question took form. “How old are you?” he asked, darting a glance over at Sera.

“Uh… what, somewhere ‘round the mid-20s, now, I think? I lost count. Don’t much care for my nameday; why would I, when I can get drunk and have cake any shitty day of the year?”

He snorted. “Maferath’s balls, I’m old enough to be your father!”

“Well, I could call you -”

“Don’t you do it,” he warned, raising his hand with a feigned threat. “I don’t even want to hear it.”

“Yeah, that’s all gross anyway.” Sera threaded a bloom behind her ear, red against her burnt blonde hair. “Baffles me that some blokes  _like_  that - something’s not right in those heads, that’s for sure.”

Blackwall nodded, his grin fading into the companionable silence. “Liddy would be a fair bit older than you, now, but not much,” he said quietly. “She loved flower crowns, would always ask me to go filch some daisies from the neighbor’s garden, or buttercups and clover from down by the river. I think you’d have liked her, if you met her.”

“Yeah, probably. I mean, you’re a decent one, as far as blokes go, and she’s got the benefit of bein’ a lady and all, so probably so. Plus,” Sera added, “she can’t be all bad, liking to dress you up in flowers. Mark of an upright kinda person, I think.”

Blackwall laughed and shook his head, much to Sera’s indignation, the motion dislodging some of her hard work. Flowers forgotten, they lay back against the riverbank, divining the shapes and designs of fluffy clouds that raced across the late afternoon sky. He smiled as Sera cackled and pointed out rude shapes in the sky.

They’d have to set up their tents before night truly fell, but it could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr as [ocean-in-my-rebel-soul](https://ocean-in-my-rebel-soul.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments and concrit always appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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